


Echo

by Onyxrayn



Category: Furry (Fandom)
Genre: Dystopian, Furry, Minor Original Character(s), Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-20 15:49:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30007245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onyxrayn/pseuds/Onyxrayn
Summary: A story that fleshes-out my fursona, Echo. This is purely for my own enjoyment :))





	Echo

Azure tail hairs brushed through the fallen leaves that dusted the sidewalk, swishing gently with each step. Shiny combat boots lead a quickened, yet relaxed gait. It was raining, and the gray sky mirrored the city beneath it. Bright neon signs reflected in the puddles that covered the ground, specks of color amongst the ashen backdrop. Signs written in characters that detailed dots and many of the same strokes directed cars through the damp streets. 

The striking cat sniffled in the cold weather and turned down an alleyway without a glance. Whipping the backpack off of his back with the jingling of zippers, he reached his clawed hand inside and grabbed a lighter. He flipped it, the flame igniting his features dimly. In the dark, he crouched against the concrete wall and lit a rolled piece of paper, pinning his ears as the rain fell harder. 

He took in his surroundings as he sat in the polluted alleyway, a door that led to the back of a club sat quietly unopened. He sighed, taking in the sound of tires splashing through the street, letting the earthy smell that emanated off of him waft into his nose. He relaxed against the wall for a moment, taking several puffs, before the smashing of glasses made his ears prick up, indicating a scuffle. 

Not being able to ignore watching a good bar fight, he gathered his things and headed around to the front of the building. He paused to make sure he was entering the right spot, there were multiple businesses, homes, and clubs crammed together that ran along every street and it was easy to go to the wrong place. The glowing sign, when translated, read “Vaporwave.”  _ That seems right. _ Pushing the metal door open, he was greeted by harsh colorful lights and a tangle between a familiar fennec fox and a Doberman with a bloody nose at the back of the club. There was a slight crowd around the two, the smaller fox pinning the dog’s head down against the bar, both fighting with bared teeth. Drinks were spilled and glasses were shattered on the floor, the bartender kept working without a qualm, this was a custom to her. 

“Echo!” the fox’s demeanor changed as he looked up and saw his blue friend, letting go of his opponent and giving him a rough push, “What’s up dubs?” He reached his hand out to dap Echo up, but the cat wasn’t one for extravagant greetings. 

Echo shrugged, his lamp-like eyes scanning the club, staring down the bar where the fight had just happened. Sniper adjusted the goggles on his forehead and picked his bomber jacket off of the ground, which was now ripped, the detailed patches on it distracting from the canvas of black fabric. 

“They got anything good here?” Echo asked, watching the Doberman sit in the corner of the bar with drooped, pointy ears, drink in hand. He snorted to himself, _aren’t so tough now, are you?_ Before Sniper could get a drink recommendation out, Echo cut him off. “You know what,” he said, loud enough for the bartender to hear, “I’ll just go for a galaxy, make it double.” He didn’t order anything for Sniper, he didn’t drink as often anyways. 

He and Sniper took the barstools at the corner of the tabletop, Sniper was enchanted by the feline making the drinks, his beady eyes tracing her talented movements. Echo watched her too, her porcelain fur turned multicolor from the LED lights that lined the bar, her long tail adorned in silver jewelry, cleavage propped up with a red corset.

“Here you gentlemen go,” she placed an extra drink in front of Sniper’s folded hands, it looked pink, but it was hard to tell in the setting. The fox grabbed it, his fingerless gloves wrapping around the sweating glass. “Tastes like acai,” he took another sip. 

Echo reached an indigo-striped hand into his pocket, pulling out a few intricately etched coins, their bronze color reflected the strobes coming from the nearly empty dance floor. He rubbed his thumb over the mandala design on one, flipping it a few times. He stacked them up and slid them over to the large-eared fox, who sat restlessly. “This is for later, meet me at the casino, there’s a job I need you to do.” Sniper nodded and pocketed the coins, watching Echo get up, collect his bag from the floor, and head for the door. 

Before he could reach his destination, he was stopped by a cheetah, who stumbled into him and giggled. Typically, he would have kept walking, but something had boiled up inside of him. He threw a quick, thoughtless punch, his had connected with her jaw, and ran outside and turned a corner before anyone could process what had happened. 

As Echo sprinted across the slippery pavement, the sable poof of hair on the top of his head soaked down onto his forehead, covering the white marking that ran down his scalp and traced his shoulders. 

He followed his earlier steps to a certain entrance on the side of the thinning street, passing through an ‘exotic food district’ which many avoided. His apartment was faced by another set of alike buildings, blending in for anyone who wasn’t looking for it. He fiddled in his pocket before pulling out a keycard to open the door. Beeping quite loudly, the door clicked and allowed him to swing it open. He was met with another set of doors, this time meshed glass, simply pulling it open. In between both doors was a wall of locked mailboxes with numbers and letters on them. Walking into the corridor behind the door, he checked to make sure the hallway was empty out of habit. Pale concrete walls with magenta pinstripe lights directed him down to a sad-looking elevator, his black boots squeaking as he walked. 

He called the elevator, the doors grating open and letting him board. He selected the second floor and stood patiently as the floor jerked and moved upwards. The elevator chimed and let him step onto the floor, he headed straight to the second door on the left, 72B stamped into a metal plaque. He scanned his card to the door again, notching the handle down and opening it to reveal a dimly lit, well-organized apartment. 

Echo turned on the lights that lined the kitchen, allowing their color to splash across the rest of the space. His backpack was thrown against the base of the island in the kitchen carelessly as he bent down to grab something out of it. He sat his half-used blunt on the counter, some of the contents dusting onto the metal counter. Walking away from the kitchen, Echo sat down on the leather couch that sat in a cove on the floor. Steps lead down to it, a huge television monitor positioned in front of the sectional. He didn’t feel like getting up to lie in his bed, so he turned on the TV and let it lure him to sleep. He covered himself in his leather jacket and curled up, the city ambiance blending into the background noise.


End file.
